


Lullaby

by Lica_K



Series: The story of Dylan and Cliff [1]
Category: Death Stranding (Video Games), Hannibal Extended Universe - Fandom
Genre: Alternative ending to Cliff, Baby Sam!, CLIFAN, Cliff is the best dad ever, Dylan and Cliff is a ship, Dylan is a character that I created (he doesn't exist in the game), One Shot, Scenes based on what happened in the game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:15:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25629562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lica_K/pseuds/Lica_K
Summary: Dylan joins President Bridget Strand as an expert on technological issues, both in equipment and in the area of security systems. He ends up meeting Cliff Unger, a man that after suffering a serious accident with his pregnant wife, took her to be part of Bridges' experimental procedures which could save the life of his unborn child. By coincidence or by circumstances, the two end up getting closer and forming a stronger connection than they imagined.
Relationships: Clifford Unger / Dylan Ethan Wright, Sam Porter Bridges & Clifford Unger
Series: The story of Dylan and Cliff [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1936180
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15





	Lullaby

**Author's Note:**

> I definitely still couldn't get over the end of Cliff's story, so I decided to create an alternate ending. I also ended up writing this fic because we need more Cliff fics, right? Hope you all enjoy it! \^o^/

“I can't bring them back to you. Nothing in this world will. But with your help and skills, we can at least prevent this from happening again. In a way that nobody has to suffer like you.” her voice was calm and almost serene as the waves of the ocean. For a brief moment, he strangely thought that she couldn't be human. “I need your help, Dylan. Will you help me?”

He laughed. Couldn't remember the last time someone had asked him for help. Or asked for anything from him. That was a lie though - and he knew very well why he was lying to himself. Because that was better than remembering the last words he had exchanged with his brothers. The only people he loved in this damn world. Gone. Too soon.

“And help you make America whole again?” he made no attempt to hide the sarcasm in his tone, much less to face her with another look that wasn't of disbelief and mockery. “It is a beautiful dream indeed. Too bad it's a goddammit utopia.” he got up from the couch he was sitting on not waiting for the next few attempts to convince him to change his mind. “Good luck, Mrs. Strand. You're going to need it.”

The man, probably military or security for the way he behaved, who had been with her since the beginning of the conversation made a move to try to prevent Dylan from leaving the room where they were, but the woman held him by the arm.

“At least let me prove it to you.” she stood up looking at him through the glasses that were in front of her cold blue eyes. Her eyes were very beautiful, he couldn't deny that, but the lack of life in them made him uncomfortable. It didn't seem possible that someone with her voice had eyes like those. “You seem to be the type of person who likes challenges.” she stood in front of him crossing her arms. “Let me prove you are wrong. What could you lose from this?”

The simple word “lose” made him swallow unconsciously. What else could he lost, indeed. There was nothing else. And that thought hurt him more than anything. The funniest part of all this was that he had the impression that she knew everything that was going through his mind. That she had chosen her words carefully waiting for his reaction. He would be an idiot if said that he hadn't noticed her intentions for manipulation from the start. And he should be even more stupid to accept her proposal even though he knew all of that. Dylan needed this. Desperately. This was the biggest problem and he realized it too late.

“Fine, but I will choose all the necessary equipment and will not accept complaints from anyone. Not even from you. I take care of my things and you take care of yours.” was the answer he gave trying not to be so rude, yet noticing the look of displeasure from the silent man standing behind the woman.

“John, please show Mr. Wright where he will work with us from now on.” by the smile on her thin lips, she seemed quite pleased with his decision choosing to ignore completely his lack of education.

One Year Later

Dylan was extremely bored. So bored that he decided to leave his work room to stroll the floors of the Bridges building. One of the things he rarely did unless there was some kind of emergency. Bridget Strand, his boss, gave him totally freedom to do as he please as long as he took care of the security system, the protection of digital files and the proper functioning of the building's electronic equipment just like he promised when took the job. She didn't mind him not socializing with other coworkers or getting along with her "bodyguard" John Annoying McClane. 

If he were honest he would say it was practically a dream job, especially if he stopped to think about the salary received. And yet, Dylan still couldn't get rid of that annoying feeling of discomfort. If he had to choose a specific moment in time from which this sensation originated, he would choose the day when he first saw a Bridge Baby. When he realized he was starting to think about it again, Dylan quickly ignored his feeling of discomfort and changed his thoughts to what kind of food he should buy.

He was just leaving the elevator to walk towards the cafeteria when the sound of something hitting a metal material caught his eye. Not far from where he stood was a man in an elegant light brown turtleneck coat punching the screen of one of the visitors' computers. Like a fucking primitive idiot. If there was one thing in this world that Dylan hated the most, was idiots who broke electronic devices because they were too stupid to understand how they work.

“Please state the purpose of your visit.” asked neutral, electronic and feminine voice of the artificial intelligence of the computer.

“You already asked me that half an hour ago... We're getting nowhere with this conversation.” replied the man in a tone more tired than angry. “Couldn't you just call the president here? She's expecting for me.”

“Please state the purpose of your visit.” upon not receiving an answer she expected, the AI asked again completely ignoring everything that the man had just said.

“Visiting.” was his sad reply after releasing a long sigh. “My wife is in the experimental procedures.”

“Visiting hours will start in an hour. Please, come back later.” naturally not interpreting the man's sad tone, the AI responded coldly with no room for discussion.

“Shit!” cursed the man, looking like he was about to punch the device again.

“Is there a problem here?” Dylan asked as he approached the man, not knowing whether to curse him or punch him before he screwed up the device further. However, he forgot about his anger when he was surprised to notice the tears that fell on the man's face.

Although the man was wearing silver glasses that made him look older or a kind of teacher, he was a handsome man. His short gray brown hair fell down over her forehead in a charming way. His brown eyes approached the color of amber, giving him a unique appearance. Not to mention the elegant symmetry of his face, which could easily be compared to the Greek statues. What the fuck did he just think? “Greek statues”? For real?

“Oh, I am so sorry. Please forgive me for my behavior.” the man took off his glasses and put them inside his coat, taking the opportunity to wipe away tears without paying much attention to them. “I lost my temper for a moment, but that is no excuse.” he tried to smile in a relaxed way, but the smile never reached his eyes. “I'm looking for President Strand. Would you happen to know where I can find her?”

“She's in a meeting right now, but I can take you to her office-” the words left his mouth before he was even aware of what was talking about. Dylan couldn't understand why he was offering to help this unknown man without hesitation and before he could say anything else a voice came from behind him.

“Mr. Unger.” called Bridget making the two men to look in her direction as she approached them. “I'm sorry for the delay. The meeting took longer than I imagined.”

As soon as he saw the black mask on the president's face, Dylan tried to hide his laughter by coughing and placing his hand over his mouth. Naturally, she realized this, but did nothing but stare at him with a cold look. It was not the first time he had seen her like this and yet he could not get used to that ridiculous mask. If the other man also thought the same way was he did, Dylan couldn't say because the man didn't even blink when he faced her.

“That's ok.” the two of them exchanged a polite handshake. “I just got here anyway.” there were two people there who knew it was a lie. Three if AI was counted. “How are my wife and son?” he said, clearly showing his concern and distress.

“Why don't we continue this conversation in my office? A more private place would be better.” soon after saying this she indicated the elevators with her hand and also took a step to the side giving him space to pass.

The man agreed, shaking his head slightly and then walking over to the elevators.

“Is everything okay, Dylan?” at the boss's unexpected question, he blinked in alarm and looked away from the unknown man at her.

“Sure. I'm just going to get some coffee and eat something.” he replied in a neutral tone, almost bordering on boredom, happy to realize that he had already recovered from the strange emotions he had just now.

“Take your time.” she said in a gentle tone, looking pleased with his answer and turning to accompany the other man to the elevators.

Dylan turned to continue walking the path he had in mind when he stepped out of the elevator before all that strange situation had occurred.

“Kid!”

He hardly believed the unknown man was calling for him, yet Dylan stopped and turned his face back more out of curiosity than anything else. And there it was. The man smiling kindly looking in his direction, being impossible to think that he was talking with anyone other than him.

“Thanks for your help.” and before Dylan could have any kind of reaction, the man and the president got into the elevator.

_______________________________

Most of the rooms and hall in the Bridges building were monitored automatically and efficiently by the security system so that there was not need for anyone to handle it constantly. Dylan did not have the habit of watching security videos as nothing that happened in that building was interesting, so he usually played some game on the computer. 

However, every time I went through security videos out of curiosity and to see if everything was working properly… Every single time… That man, Clifford Unger (as he soon learned), was again doing something strange in the room where his wife and son were. Watching the video and hearing the man talk to the baby made Dylan feel like he was in those hospital nurseries, even though he had never been to places like these before.

“Take a look. This is what the world looked like hundreds of millions of years ago.” as usual, Cliff voice was warm and gentle like all the other times he had talked to his son. “There was just one big continent.” he was showing an educational book with big realistic pictures for the baby. “And do you know what this is?” he turned the page taking care not to take the book out of the little boy's vision. “The moon!” he announced with enthusiasm as if that was something extraordinary and new. “I'll show you the real thing soon. I promise.” he put the book away and removed the glasses he was wearing. Running his fingers over his nose, looking tired. “The whole wide world will be yours to explore.” there was no doubt or hesitation in his voice, much less in his facial expression. “You'll be able to go wherever you want... even the moon.”

It was things like that that made Dylan compare that man to all the other cases he had seen of babies in similar conditions. Nobody acted like him. Whether they are family members or even the husband himself, none of them was able to act with the love and affection that Cliff showed with his son. Honestly? After a while, none of them returned to visit the babies. Because for them the babies were a reminder of something painful or even guilty of what happened to their mothers. The world was ending and people still continued to act like complete idiots. Not that it surprised him. Far from it. It was so annoying predictable that he didn't waste his time thinking about it.

The problem was that whenever he saw Cliff doing those strangely cute things (yes, cute because there was no other word to describe it), Dylan would run his fingers over the small tattoo on the side of his left wrist.

Today was one of those days when he knew he would do nothing but watch the security cameras. Because Cliff was doing something weird again. He was dancing. That man who could easily intimidate anyone if he wished, was dancing alone like a fool in love. Dylan was trying to understand why he was acting stranger than usual when he heard him talking to his son.

“Today is Mommy´s birthday.” his voice came out sad and happy at the same time, as strange as that sounds. Sitting on the floor, after falling with the twirls of his dance, Cliff placed his hand on the closed container where his wife was. “It's also the anniversary of when we first met.”

Realizing how personal it was, Dylan get out of the security system to stare at the screen without knowing exactly what he would do now. Looking at the forgotten calendar on the wall, which had been put on by the annoying John after much discussion between the two with the intention of forcing him to know and follow important work commitments, Dylan began to compare himself with Cliff.

There were several important dates that he should at least remember no matter how much they hurt, yet he stubbornly refused. Because he knew that when he started to cry he probably wouldn't be able to stop. So his only choice was to forget or at least pretend. The thought of how his brothers should think about him, seeing him act that way, made him laugh sarcastically.

“Fuck.” cursed getting mad at himself and Cliff for making him feel that way. He mentally promised himself that he would no longer pay attention to that man and would avoid using the security cameras from now on. “It's best this way.” he agreed with himself by turning his attention to other matters.

His promise lasted less than a week.

In his defense, what happened was really unpredictable even by the standards of Cliff's behavior. In other words, the man came to visit his family drunk and with a face full of bruises that surely must have been the result of some recent fight.

Dylan saw him leaving the elevator when he was returning from the bathroom. The first thing that caught his attention was the way the man walked and the second was the bottle he was holding. He was almost sure that there must be a rule there that prevented drunk people from walking around, but even if there was, he would be the last person who would report it to Cliff. Not knowing if he should go to the man to make sure he doesn't fall or something or if he should just go back to his office and pretend that didn't seen anything, he chose the latter option.

Without even pretending to be curious and also telling himself that he just wanted to make sure Cliff was okay, Dylan hurriedly sat in his chair and started to get into the security system. It didn't take long before he found what was looking for.

“Fucking idiot.” he swore, slowly shaking his head from side to side. He was sitting in a chair in front of the device where his son was still holding the bottle with his right hand. “Thinking you could keep her safe.” and took a big drink from the bottle, putting his head back a little. Cliff looked up for a second looking disappointed and sad. “A man like you.”

When Dylan finally understood that the man was talking about himself he couldn't contain the words that came out of his mouth.

“So your solution to all this disappointment with yourself is to drink and get into fights with the clear intention of getting hurt?” of course he knew that the man could not hear him, but he continued nonetheless. “Yes, getting hurt on purpose like a moron. I admit that I don't know you well, but you seem to me to be someone who has the full ability to defend himself if that was what you wanted.”

“Sorry…” was the word that came out of Cliff's mouth when he got up from his chair.

Dylan rationally knew that those words were not for him and yet he couldn't help how it affected his heartbeat even for a moment.

“I put her in that bed.” from the way he said it, some might think he was apologizing for an unforgivable act.

“What else could you have done? There was no other option.” he replied, letting out a long breath without being able to take his eyes off the screen.

“It's just you and me now, BB.” he stated approaching his son and placing his hand on the device where the baby was. “You're all I've got. I'll keep you safe no matter what.” he said in a firm, determined voice, still holding the damn bottle in his right hand.

“I have no doubt about it.” replied Dylan with a different smile on his lips. A genuine smile that he hadn't worn in over a year. The smile disappeared as soon as he noticed that Cliff sat in the chair and started to sleep. “You got to be kidding me.” he stared at the screen, waiting for the man to indicate any sign that he was not sleeping. “What the hell are you going to do if someone finds you like this?” it was then that he began to wonder why he should feel so worried about someone he doesn't even know. “They will probably stop you from continuing to visit and honestly I couldn't blame them.” for the next few seconds he continued to stare at the screen as if waiting for something to happen. “Damn it! God dammit!” he exclaimed angrily, rising from his chair in a sudden movement.

Getting to the room was not difficult, after all they were on the same floor, the question was what to do when he got there. Upon entering the room, Dylan waited/wished Cliff to wake up with his presence, but this was far from the case. The man refused to wake up even when he called him and put his hand on his shoulder to shake him a little.

“Unbelievable. Unfuckbelievable!” at the sound of water moving, Dylan turned to face the baby, who was looking at him as if he were judging him. “Sorry. Sorry, little guy.” apologized by raising his hand. “This…” gestured with his hand to himself and the baby. “was definitely not the way I had imagined we would meet.” the baby made other small noises, but this time he seemed happy with the Dylan's words. “I am Dylan, by the way.” the baby looked at him with curiously and suddenly he wanted to continue talking to the little one, but he soon remembered why he was there. “We will continue this conversation later after I help your father, okay?”

Seeing no other way to get the man out there, he pushed the chair he was sitting on to the door, taking care to pick up the bottle before it landed on the floor. Dylan ended up taking Cliff, taking care not to run into anyone, to his office where after considerable effort he placed him on his couch.

He took a blanket and started to cover him when his eyes stopped on his bruised features. Even with all those slight bruises, the man was still as handsome as the first time he had seen him. His gray-brown hair continued to fall charmingly over his forehead. Dylan let out a long breath and finished covered Cliff with the blanket.

“Sweet dreams, Cliff.” spoke softly almost a whisper. “You look like you need it.”

Time passed and honestly Dylan didn't even notice, as he spent most of his time reading or browsing into the internet. He even considered playing a game little, but was afraid the noise would end up waking Cliff (which made no sense considering how much he had already tried to wake him up). He enjoyed the man's company. Hearing the sound of your sleeping breathing was relaxing.

Upon hearing the sound of something moving on the couch, Dylan stopped what he was doing and turned his chair to find a Cliff sitting with his hand on his head. Judging by his expression and the strength that he closed his eyes, the hangover was preventing him from strange the environment in which he found himself.

“I found you asleep in your wife's room when I went to check if the equipment was working properly.” he preferred to go on informing about the situation before the man asked him. “I figured if other people found you like this... they could stop you from continuing your visits. That's why I brought you here to my office.” he stopped talking expecting that maybe the other one had a question or two, but as that was not the case he continued. “How are you feeling?”

“As if I had been shot.” was the unexpected answer that Cliff gave and Dylan couldn't hide his laughter at that.

“Definitely not the answer I was expecting.” he got up and took a bottle of water still closed and held it out to the seated man.

“Thanks.” thanked accepting the bottle. “Thank you for this and for everything else. And I apologize for all this.” he opened the bottle and started to take it. “I shouldn't have drunk.”

“It's all right. Just don't make it a habit.” he joked leaning against the work table and crossed his arms.

“Definitely not.” Cliff said firmly with a smile on his lips. “Not even if I feel like sleeping on this couch again.”

Dylan didn't know if he was joking or serious, so he chose not to say anything. 

“Damn it! This is a comfortable amazing couch.” he stated enthusiastically, running his hand over the couch.

“I know. That is precisely why I chose it.” Dylan replied before he could even think how that conversation was going in a strange direction.

Upon hearing his words, Cliff lifted his head and for the first time the two of them fixed on each other's gaze. The man's gaze was so intense that Dylan couldn't see himself looking away. When Cliff started to laugh, the other one also laughed seeing that he was not the only one to find that situation strange.

“You're not going to ask?” the oldest of them asked as he carefully folded the blanket.

“Ask what?”

“About the bottle? Or the injuries?” when he finished folding, he placed the blanket on the other end of the sofa. “I wouldn't mind answering anything after the help you offered me.”

Dylan was really tempted to ask a question since the opportunity was right there before him, yet he chose to keep his curiosity to himself. He thought he already knew too much about Cliff and that he shouldn't be such a dick and intrude on the other's life. No more than I had already done.

“No. There is no need for me to know more than I already know.” he sat down on the chair and turned his attention to the computer. “I just can hope that whoever did this to you had received more damage.”

Upon hearing the genuine laughter in his back, Dylan was happy to have chosen those exact words. Now that he stopped to think, it was the first time he heard that man actually laugh.

“You have no idea.” he said in an amused tone probably remembering the fight. Cliff stood up looking at his watch. “I have to go, but I owe you one. Big one.”

“Do not worry about it.” he turned in his chair so they could face each other. “Just don't do it again, ok?”

“I will try my best.” he walked to the door and opened it. “Thank you again. Really. This means a lot to me.” this time he smiled sadly and tiredly. “See you around.” and went out the door and closing it.

_______________________________

The heavy rain hit the window and it didn't look like it would stop anytime soon. Dylan for the fourth time looked at his computer's watch and sighed, running a hand through his hair. The time that Cliff usually came had passed more than an hour and Dylan was sure the rain was to blame.

“The little one will be so disappointed.” commented, walking away from the window and sitting in his chair. He was about to put on the headset when he heard a knock at his door. Taking a deep breath, already preparing himself mentally in case were one of his co-workers reporting some new bullshit they committed by not following his instructions. Dylan opened the door and felt his heart stop beating when he recognized the person standing wet in front of him.

“Dylan, right?” Cliff's voice sounded a little tired, as if he had run to get there. “I hope I'm not disturbing you.” smiled as he ran a hand through his wet hair. His beautiful brown coat was completely soaked.

“No, I'm just a little surprised.” he confessed not having even time to think about lying. “What can I do for you? Besides lending you a towel?”

Upon hearing Dylan's words, the man smiled happily causing the youngest to actually go after some towel to borrow.

“You don't have to worry. I don't want to take too much of your time and the visiting hours are almost over.” the man leaned against the door and seemed to have no intention of entering the room. “I was wondering if you can tell me about something.” he removed the watch from his wrist. “Do you happen to know anyone who can fix this watch?”

Giving up looking for the towel and surprised by Cliff's question, Dylan approached him who offered the watch to hold. The watch was of an old model, but still very well maintained. Its silvery color gave it an appearance of new. Apparently his only flaw was that his stitches had stopped working.

“Are you sure it's not just the battery?” asked the youngest as he continued to analyze the watch. It was when he turned it that he noticed an inscription on the back. 

“For the best birthday present I ever received. Lisa.”

“Even if it's just the battery I have no idea how to change it.” he admitted running his hands through his hair again, making a few drops of water slide down the side of his face. “I don't understand anything about technology, even if it's from this old watch.”

“It is indeed an old model.” commented the obvious, not knowing exactly why he started wishing he didn't help fix that watch. “Unfortunately, I don't know anyone who still works with a model like this.” seeing the man's expression start to change to something between disappointment and sadness, Dylan bit his lip in anger at himself. “But.” even though he knew he would probably regret it later, he continued to speak. “If you want, I can fix it.”

“Are you sure?” asked Cliff, genuinely surprised by the suggestion. “I don't want to give you trouble with something that is clearly my problem.”

“It won't be any trouble at all.” he replied with a smile. “I was really in need some kind of distraction. You have no idea how boring my job can be.” closed his fingers around the watch. “If the problem is not very serious, I can return it to you the next time you come here.”

“All right. I'll leave it in your hands then.” he took a step back. “Thank you, Dylan. See next time.” and after giving a wink, the man left probably for his wife's room.

Dylan closed the door and looked at the watch in his hand. Even with Cliff's relaxed demeanor throughout the conversation they just had and even the fact that he winked at him, Dylan had the feeling that it was all just an act. And that perhaps some of the drops of water on his face are not from the rain. He had no idea what kind of conversation Cliff would have with his son today, but he had no intention of watching.

_______________________________

“The child's special. One of a kind.” hearing these exact words from Bridget, Dylan stopped setting the silver watch on his desk and looked at the computer screen.

Bridget was inside Cliff's wife's room and was talking to John.

“A BB candidate?” John's words made Dylan feel an uncomfortable shiver all over his body.

“Either that or…” one could imagine from her tone that the woman felt sorry and sad, but Dylan knew her well enough to know her priorities.

“A sacrifice.”

He unconsciously got up from his chair when he heard that. Dylan never got along with John, even on the rare occasions when he tried. But now he has begun to feed a hatred for that man in a way that he never thought was possible.

“Fucking shit...” began to curse in a low tone.

“A foundation. A bridge.” the woman began to pass her right hand over the equipment where the baby was with a look that disgusted Dylan. Both she and John watched the little baby as if he were a beautiful tool to fulfill their wishes.

“FUCK!” he screamed with all his might when he punched the first thing he saw, in other words the computer screen. “Why him?!” punched again. “WHY?!” and punched a few more times until the screen no longer worked and his hands started to bleed.

He sat on the chair and stayed there for a long time with his eyes closed without caring about the pain in his hand. Gradually he managed to relax, although he still felt like wanting to break something else. Opening his eyes, Dylan took a deep breath and fixed his eyes on the tattoo on his wrist.

“No more regrets.” he said to himself with determination, turning his attention to the watch left on the table. “I don't know if you would forgive me for this, but honestly I don't care, Lisa. If you were here we wouldn't even be in this situation to start.” he smiled wryly as he put the watch pieces together.

As soon as he finished fixing the watch, Dylan went to Lisa's room and strategically hung the watch on the side of the electronic equipment where the baby was. The little one looked at him curiously and Dylan raised his bandaged hand to touch his fingers against the glass of the baby's container, but stopped the movement by changing his mind.

“Take care of this until your dad arrives, okay?” he asked trying not to sound sad, but failing. He opened his mouth to say something, but again changed his mind. After giving the baby a discouraged smile, he turned away and left the room in quick steps.

On the next day, Dylan was dozing on the sofa until the computer started beeping alerting about movement in Cliff's wife's room. Since the day his boss had gone to that room, he programmed the computer to always alert him whenever someone entered there.

He stood up opening his mouth and scratching his head, already approaching the computer entering the system without even opening his eyes. It was then that he began to hear a whistle which immediately made him open his eyes. It felt like a lullaby. A beautiful lullaby.

“You know what day it is today, BB?” Cliff's voice sounded more excited than usual. “Today would be a very special day, if your Mommy hadn't-” he stopped talking.

The man was placing candles on a rectangular birthday cake decorated with a rainbow.

“You're not born yet, but the more candles the merrier, right?” the feeling of excitement in his voice was not yet gone. “Soon, it will be time for you to come out into the real world. I promise.” said as he lit the candles with his silver lighter. “And then we can have a real party.” Cliff took the cake with the candles burning to the baby, taking great care to keep it steady in his hands. “Well, happy birthday.” and blew out all the candles smiling at his son.

Dylan continued to be impressed and to wonder how Cliff managed to bring all those things into that room. He was sure that if John knew about it, he would have made a bigger mess about not following the rules and Bridget… she probably wouldn't mind. She would accept any request from Cliff if it meant keeping that baby there.

His train of thought was interrupted when he heard a knock on the door.

“Dylan?” the voice sounded a little muffled because it came from the other side of the door, but even so it was impossible not to recognize it.

Dylan's first instinct was to get up from the chair and open the door, however he scolded himself as he remembered why he hadn't returned the watch in person and remained seated happy to notice that hadn't turned on the lights in the room.

He heard a few more knocks on the door and closed his eyes, pretending not to notice them. Dylan heard a few more sounds outside, but after a few minutes he heard footsteps moving away.

When it was time to go, he took his coat with his backpack and when opened the door and stopped as he saw that there was something on the floor. A piece of rainbow cake. As he crouched down, he noticed that there was also a note folded at the bottom of the plate.

“Thanks for the watch. I would rather have thanked you personally as it has a personal value to me. Enjoy the cake.”

Dylan laughed as he read the message. And laughed again as he read it one more time. The last thing he wanted to do was to have affection feelings for that man more than he already had, but it seemed that no matter how hard he tried... Cliff would always find a way to make him feel alive. After putting the note in his pants pocket, he took a small piece of the cake and ate it.

“Too sweet.” he commented, remembering how much he hated sweet foods.

Dylan ate all the cake when he got home.

_______________________________

“Brought you an astronaut.” this time Cliff held a small keychain doll with astronaut clothes in front of his son. “Mankind can go anywhere. Even outer space.” he started to attach the keychain to the container where his son was. “You'll be out of there in no time.” he stated with an optimistic smile. “And the second all this is over, I'm gonna take you wherever you wanna go.” and then he started to whistle that lullaby.

Every time he started singing that lullaby, Dylan would close his eyes and listen to it. This time, however, he didn't have time to enjoy the song because the doors to the room where Cliff was standing opened and he almost fell out of his chair when he recognized who that person was.

“Can I help you?” questioned Cliff when turn the face towards the person who entered, not looking happy to be interrupted.

For the next few seconds the two men continued to face each other and Dylan thought about how incredible it would be if Cliff "accidentally" punched John.

“Holy shit, John, is that you?!” upon hearing Cliff's exclamation of surprise, the smile on Dylan's lips disappeared completely.

“Captain? What are you doing here?” and John's voice of surprise and excitement made Dylan make a face of displeasure.

“My wife's checked in. They don't want a repeat of last year.”

The mere mention of that event made Dylan look away from the screen.

“The voidout in Manhattan?” of course, John had to say this in a neutral voice as if he were describing a bloody report.

And seeming to want to irritate Dylan even more, the two men exchanged a tight hug, looking like they were old friends. He wanted to laugh when he saw John's happy face.

“I´m so sorry… I didn't know you were the husband.” said John, regretting sincerely.

Closing the security system, Dylan started to do something he himself had promised not to do. He started looking for all the information about Clifford Unger over the network. Everything about his military career, his association with John Blake McClane, his marriage to Lisa, his leaving the army because of his family and the accident.

Dylan didn't feel any better after finding everything out. In fact, it seemed that his discomfort had only increased.

_______________________________

Christmas came and of course Cliff had prepared something special for his son. The man was wearing one of those red Christmas hats and was carrying a white bag on his back. Most unbelievable of all was the voice he insisted on using. Acting like a Santa Claus with no white beard, but with a unique humor he handed the gifts to everyone and then went out doing a funny "ho ho ho".

When Dylan left the room to go to the cafeteria, he was surprised to see a bag hanging on the door handle. Inside was a wrapped box and a card.

“Merry Christmas”

In the box was a blue headphone bluetooth from Sony.

_______________________________

“This isn't what we agreed on. You said you'd do everything in your power to save BB.” for the first time, Cliff spoke in an angry voice and still seemed to be controlling himself not to make the conversation more intense than it already was.

And how could he stay calm? They are informing him that they want to put his son through further experiments. As if he were a lab rat. A tool. Nothing else.

“We are. But we cannot release your son just yet. Believe me when I tell you it's for the best.” as usual, Bridget used her calm and peaceful voice trying to show how much she cared about the subject they were dealing with.

“Says some woman in a mask who's done nothing but lie to me.” he replied without hiding his anger and irritation when he looked at the woman with an intense look.

“I have a duty to protect our country.” said firmly as she returned his gaze as she got closer. As if that justified everything. “Lies are an unfortunate necessity.” countered aloud before turning her back and leaving the room.

Putting his feelings at side, Dylan began to think again about the behavior of his boss and John. Bridget was running out with her lies and did not seem very committed to continuing to act like an honest woman willing to help a distressed father. John, on the other hand, seemed strangely committed to learning more about security systems. As the president's "right hand", he had access to just about everything, but he never wanted to learn more than necessary... until his meeting with Cliff.

Something that was about to happen and if he had to assume he would say that they would probably take the little one to another facility. As they always did with the other BBs. Time was running out. Especially the time he would have if he chose to get involved in the middle of it all.

_______________________________

Leaning on the railing of the only balcony on that floor, Dylan smoked with the blue headphone over his ears not looking at anything in particular from the outside landscape. His attention was completely focused on the conversation he was listening to over the headphone.

“The president gave me the highest-level access privileges. I've used them to manipulate the security system.” from the way John spoke it seemed like he alone had created the damn security system on his own. There was so much pride in that voice that it made Dylan think about throwing up. “We have five minutes before it resets, sir. Five minutes to talk… off the record.” if Dylan didn’t know, he would say John was someone smart for planning all of that. Too bad he knew. “Take BB and get out of this place. There's nothing I can do for your wife. I'm sorry.”

“If you really felt sorry, you wouldn't have even started working for that woman.” Dylan commented low to himself. He had recently acquired the habit of talking to himself. Perhaps due to the time he had spent watching security cameras.

“You were my commanding officer. But I swore an oath to the president to protect her and the country at all costs. Now, if she orders me to do something, I have to do it. I have to. But I served under you first.” John's words came out with such intonation that it could be mistaken for a speech or an oath. “And your family doesn't deserve this, any of this…” at least on one thing he and Dylan could agree.

“Why are you helping me? If they catch you-” on hearing Cliff's voice of concern, Dylan almost mashed the cigarette between his fingers. Almost. There must have been a lot of people out there who deserved to hear that voice of concern, he had no doubts about it, but John was definitely not one of them.

“Because you saved my life, sir. Again and again.” John stated with intensity.

“It would be so nice if he hadn't done that…” Dylan put the cigarette in his mouth.

“When the brass sent us into the jaws of hell, it was you that brought us home. Back then, I thought I was invincible.” John kept saying.

“You still think you're invincible.” he said holding the cigarette between his fingers.

“I thought I was some kind of action hero.” 

Dylan couldn't hide his laughter at that. It was too much for him.

“But I'm not the hero. You are, sir. You´re the reason I´m still alive. And it's past time I paid that debt.” said John with unwavering firmness. “They´re moving your son to a new facility tomorrow. You´ll never see him again. He'll serve as the foundation of a new communications network- a sacrifice for a nation that no longer exists. I wrote down everything you need to know. It was the only way to keep it off the system. Burn it when you're done.” from the sound he heard, he supposed he had put his hand on Cliff's shoulder. “The rest is up to you, sir.”

Tomorrow. It was sooner than Dylan expected, but he was not surprised. They had no reason to delay their plans. The president was too confident of herself to think that Cliff would let them take his son so easily. This man. He would probably go to hell and come back if it meant protecting his son. Dylan did not believe that Cliff's love for his son had limits. And that was what scared him the most.

He put the cigarette back in his mouth and blew out a breath, removing the headphone and hanging them around his neck.

“Enjoying the headphone?” 

The familiar voice made Dylan smile and turn his face back. Cliff approached, dressed in his black blouse and dark blue jacket, and positioned himself next to Dylan.

“How did you know this was my favorite color?” questioned Dylan, taking the cigarette with his fingers and blowing out the gray smoke.

“I didn´t.” he admitted, seeming that for a moment he had been thinking of saying the opposite. “But I thought they were a good color to match your eyes.”

Dylan laughed putting his hand over his mouth and turning his face to the opposite side where the other man was.

“I like them. Very much. I thank you for them. And also for the cake.” he admitted smiling knowing that he could not lie about that to the man. “Even though I don't like sweet foods.”

“That cake was indeed very sweet.” commented Cliff, also leaning on the banister. “But you ate anyway.” it was not a question but a statement.

“It was a delicious cake.” Dylan replied, although the question was not asked. “It would have been a waste to throw away.”

“Would you have another cigarette?” the innocent question made Dylan turn to face the man beside him.

“Sorry. This is my last one.” said Dylan, really regretting not buying another pack.

“I don't mind sharing... that is if you don't either.” and on hearing those words, Dylan almost let the single cigarette slip through his fingers. Thank goodness he had good reflexes.

“I didn't know you smoked.” he commented, handing the cigarette to Cliff.

“I quit after my wife got pregnant.” the man, with the cigarette elegantly in his fingers, took it to his mouth. Really, no one could say that that was the first time he smoked. “But the circumstances made me want to smoke at least one more time.” he looked back at Dylan. “Did you happen to be getting into some kind of fight?” he asked, indicating the injury to his right hand.

“If you consider punching a computer screen a fight... then yes.”

“Problems at work?” he asked, extending the cigarette to the other.

“Something like that.” he replied accepting the cigarette and putting it in his mouth.

“That´s a nice tattoo you got there.” praised Cliff with clear curiosity in the tone of his voice. “What does it mean?”

“Ah, this?” Dylan moved his arm to get a better look at the tattoo on his wrist. “It's nonsense that my brothers and I did when we were younger.” he said in a relaxed way with a smile. “It was just... something we wanted to have to prove our connection with each other.” he smoked a little before giving it to the other.

“Were you the oldest?” he asked before putting the cigarette in his mouth.

“The youngest.” Dylan laughed thinking about those days in the past. “The absolute nightmare for our parents.” he sighed feeling the wind passes them. “Not that I cared. As soon as possible, I left home and lived my life making my own choices.” he looked at his own tattoo. “With some regrets.”

“You are too young to worry about regrets.” the two faced each other after Cliff said that. “If you have already started to feel the weight of your choices, then start making them thinking what it will mean for you.” held out the cigarette to Dylan. “I would suggest that your first choice would be to stop smoking.”

“You know that you have no morals to tell me that, right?” Dylan tried to pick up the cigarette, but the man brought it out of reach.

“Cliff.”

“What?” he asked, blinking his eyes in surprise without understanding.

“My name.” the older one smiled, still keeping his gaze on the younger one. “I just realized that I hadn't told you my name yet.” offered the hand that didn't hold the cigarette. “Nice to meet you.”

“Dylan.” replied accepting the hand. “Nice to meet you too, Cliff.”

And it was at this moment that Dylan thought that maybe, whatever John's plan was, it would work. The plan would work and that man too handsome to have been a military man would come out alive from that place with his son. And maybe, he wouldn't even have to do anything. Maybe. He never liked that word. Much less to leave things to chance.

“Now, give me back my cigarette.” he asked in his best authority tone knowing full well that it would have no effect on Cliff.

As a response, the man put the cigarette in his mouth until nothing was left but the filter.

“No. It is bad for your health.” he declared, seeming not to mind Dylan's expression of disbelief. “You have a whole future ahead of you, Dylan.” and to make the other one even more surprised, Cliff stroked his hair affectionately. “Don't waste it on things like this.” and turned away from the balcony.

_______________________________

Five minutes.

That's was all the time that John Fucking Moron was able to get for Cliff to kill his wife and take his son away from there. There was no way to save Lisa and Cliff already knew that. That was why he drank that day and why he cried on a rainy day and all the other strange things he did. There was no way to terminate his wife support from inside her room, because the system won't allow it. So he had only one other option.

All that in five fucking minutes.

What the hell was that man thinking when he planned this?

It was at times like this that Dylan thanked himself for putting a bug and locator on Cliff's watch. Because that wasn't a plan, it was a fucking suicide. Of course, he couldn't have left everything in the hands of that president's puppet. Not Cliff's life and much less the life of the little one.

Still, Dylan chose to see how far John's plans would work and to his surprise, or rather disappointment, the plan ends up right at the elevator doors. Because they just wouldn't open. Or rather, they didn't open on the side that Cliff would be on. A dead end. Why? This would only be possible if someone had manipulated the system. Someone with a high level of access. And Dylan could only think of two people: Bridget and John.

The last time he had seen the president, she seemed in such a good mood that it was honestly scared. She didn't seem to be aware of anything that was going to happen that day other than what was already scheduled.

So. There was only one person left.

John Blake McClane. John FUCKING McClane. That son of a…

Unfortunately his mental cursing was interrupted by the noise of the elevator doors opening. Cliff stepped out of the elevator in his usual elegant brown coat and started to walk on his usual path. Dylan hid in a strategic corner until the man passed without paying much attention to his surroundings. 

Dylan looked back at the doors that led to the elevator and began to think quickly in some kind of a solution. He could try to undo the programming that left them that way, but he doubted he would have time for that. It was then that he had an idea while looking at the ceiling and without wasting any more time he ran to his work room.

Sitting in front of the computer screen, Dylan worked fast as if there might be no tomorrow. With the headphone over his ears, he overheard the conversation between John and Cliff without paying much attention to the words.

“I'm sorry, Lisa” Cliff's voice was heartbreaking. “Don´t worry. I´ll take care of him.” he could hear how his breathing was irregular. “I promise you.” he said twice, perhaps to make sure she could leave without worrying about their son. “My Anomalisa…” there was so much love in his words that for a second Dylan wondered how they must have been like before the accident.

The sound of gunshots brought him back to reality.

Five minutes.

The system settings were almost ready, the suitcase he had prepared was right there on the floor, the medical kit was on the table and the president was occupied on another floor. Hearing Cliff's quick footsteps, Dylan couldn't help thinking that maybe he had forgotten something important. It was then as he heard Cliff trying to open the doors leading to the elevators that he remembered something obvious.

The gun. The weapon that John had given Cliff.

Dylan's plans involved Cliff being caught for a brief moment, but the damn gun was not in the plans. Because as soon as security guards saw the gun they could shoot him.

“Fuck!” he cursed, rising from his chair.

What now? Should he think of another plan? Dylan could have sworn he was listening to the movement of the clock as if they wanted to remind him that time was running out.

It was then that the alarm began to sound and the lights turned red.

Dylan ran to the closet and pulled out a fat gun and an oxygen mask.

_______________________________

When the alarm started to sound, Cliff stopped walking, thinking that the five minutes should have ended. And before he could think about his next step, when he turned his eyes to the door that led to the elevators, he came across two armed guards.

His first instinct was to shoot them both with the only weapon in his hand, but he knew he couldn't do that. This place was not a battlefield. And after the Death Stranding, death became something to be avoided at all costs. Cliff refused to be someone who would provoke the same thing that happened in Manhattan, even if it meant dying there. He didn't mind dying, but before that happen he would make sure that his son be free to live a life by his own choices.

That thought reminded him of a boy with sad blue eyes, rebellious brown hair and an elegant beard over his face. It was a pity that he couldn't say goodbye to him, but maybe it was better that way.

“Put it down!” shouted the guard with the gun pointed in his direction.

“Back off.” Cliff replied, pointing the gun at his son in his arm. It was a risky bluff, but it was all he had.

“Fuck.” said one of the guards, looking more worried than before. They all knew that the president valued that baby more than anything else.

“Back off!” Cliff repeated it more intensely, trying to show how serious he was.

“Stand down, stand down, stand down.” whispered one of the guards to the other colleague. “All right.” he said putting his hands up, but still holding the gun.

Cliff continued with the gun pointed at the baby without taking his eyes off the guards as he took a few steps back. And then he started running.

“Get him!” shouted one of the guards.

He felt the bullet pierce his shoulder before he heard the gunshot. It was not an unknown pain, but it was impossible to get used to it. He remembered the time he got drunk and woke up on Dylan's couch. “As if I had been shot”. It was what he had said.

“Don't do it!” he recognized John's voice behind him as he continued to run.

He tried to stabilize his breathing, but not very successfully. He removed the coat that was wearing and dropped it on the floor near one of the doors leading to the elevators. Still closed. Before he knew it, he was already sitting on the floor holding his son close to him without releasing the gun. He had really screwed it up. Had ruined everything. Right after he promised her. Promised to take care of their son.

He heard approaching footsteps and even tried to lift the gun, but when he recognized John he let his hand fall on the floor.

“Oh God!” said John full of concern, crouching close to Cliff. “I'm sorry, Captain.”

Cliff wanted to say that it wasn't his fault. That he had already risked too much for him. He wanted to thank John for trying to help him, but it was then that the two of them heard heavy footsteps approaching in the corridor in front of them. Special security for the clothes they wore. Four of them. Very well armed and protected.

“Don´t! You got it?!” ordered John getting up and placing an open hand in their direction as if he could contain them. “You, too. Stay there and hold your fire!” he said to the other two guards from before, who approached across the hall.

The guards looked at John as if he were a crazy man, but obeying his orders since he was their superior. Cliff smiled. That man still thought he was invincible. If that were not the case he would not be doing such crazy thing. As Cliff was about to do.

He held the gun more tightly and was about to get up when an explosion noise made everyone forget the situation they were in and look in the direction the noise came from.

At the end of the corridor on the right, some rooms seemed to have suffered some kind of explosion. It didn't take long for the fire alarm to replace the other alarm. Water started raining from the ceiling.

“You two! Stay here and watch him. Don't shoot. That's an order, got it?” John ordered pointing his finger at the two guards. “The rest of you follow me.” said to the four of the special security.

And so John and the four special guards left in the direction of the explosions. Alone with the two guards aiming the guns at him, Cliff hid the gun he had and started thinking about how should he do to disable those two. The water in the ceiling had soaked the bodies of them all, but none of them seemed bothered by it. A distraction. It was all that Cliff needed to get out of there.

As the three were very concentrated among themselves, they ended up not noticing the approach of someone behind them. But even if they did paid attention around them, the sound of falling water and the alarm would prevent them from noticing a man in a mask holding a large gun.

The man fired twice, hitting the two men who fell with the impact of the bullet from the grenade weapon. It didn't take long for the environment to be reflected by sleeping gas. Cliff, quickly noticing what it was about, closed his eyes and put his arm to cover his mouth and nose. In the next moment, he felt someone grab his shoulder and press an oxygen mask against his face.

“We have to go.” that's what the masked man said.

Cliff failed to recognize the voice, let alone see his appearance. Seeing no choice but to trust him, Cliff put on his mask and accepted his help to get up. Together the two left and shortly afterwards entered a room closing the door. Cliff sat on a couch and took a deep breath before removing the mask.

“Shit! I heard the gunshot, but I hoped they didn't hit you.” the concerned voice was now strangely familiar. But it couldn't be possible. “I thought military men like you were able to dodge bullets. Guess I was wrong.” when Cliff opened his eyes he saw the blue-eyed boy crouching close to him with a medical kit in his hands.

“Dylan.” he said before coughing a few times because of the little air he had breathed in the sleeping gas. “What the hell are you doing?” asked with a little rebuke in the tone of his voice.

“Saving your life is what it looks like.” he said boldly without bothering to ask permission before opening Cliff's wet, bloody shirt so he could see the wound. “The bullet went through.” commented, looking pleased with that finding. He took some bandages and placed them on the two wounds. “We can worry about it after we get out of here.” he got up and picked up a suitcase that was on the floor. “Now I need you to wear this outfit and take these pills.” he put the suitcase on the couch next to Cliff and put on his hand some pills. “The less time we spend here, the better it will be.”

“Dylan. Slow down for a second.” asked Cliff holding the boy's arm, making the two of them to face each other. “Why are you helping me? Risking yourself like that…”

“I'm just following your advice, Cliff.” Dylan replied interrupting him with a cheeky smile. “Making my choices and thinking what it will mean for me, right?”

“It was not for this situation that I said that and you know it very well.” he countered in a tired voice adjusting his son better in his lap.

“I know. But we don't have time to talk right now.” said with determination. “Later.”

They continued to stare at each other for a few seconds, until Cliff nodded.

“Later then.” agreed and took the pills.

_______________________________

Bridget walked down the aisle in quick, steady steps. People ran by her following the fire safety protocol, but she paid no attention to any of them. Behind her, two special security guards followed her. She was impatient to find John and demand explanations for that whole mess. Someone would have to pay for that.

“President!” a male voice made her stop and turned her attention to Dylan, who was approaching. “What the hell happened? They are talking about evacuate the floor.”

“It appears that some type of malfunction has occurred in some rooms on this floor causing small explosions.” she informed quickly, not wanting to spend too much time there. “Do you know where John is?”

“No. I haven't seen him since we greeted each other this morning.” he replied in a worried tone, as did his expression. “What do you want me to do?”

She thought about his question and suggestion for a moment, but then put it aside.

“Don´t worry about this. Follow the others and leave the building until we have resolved the situation.” she said putting her hand on his shoulder. “Once everything is settled I will need your help to find out what happened.” it was only at this moment that she noticed the special guard behind Dylan. “You. Walk with him and make sure he leaves the building safely.” she ordered in a cold tone.

The guard in response nodded.

Dylan said goodbye politely and with one hand holding the backpack strap on his back, he and the guard started walking towards the stairs since the elevators were not working. And for some strange reason, she felt uncomfortable. This usually happened when Amelie knew something and didn't want to tell Bridget.

“Dylan.” she called out to him when he opened the door to the stairs. “You haven't had any weird ideas lately, right?” she asked with concern.

“No more than usual.” he replied in an amused tone. “Don't worry, Madam President. I haven't been thinking about that since the day you hired me.” he said in a serious tone without trying to hide anything.

“Good.” said neutrally as she continued to walk down the hall.

_______________________________

Only after they got into Dylan's car and started driving away from the Bridges building was when Cliff removed the helmet he had been wearing so far. The security guard's clothes were uncomfortable, but he would ignore that for the moment. From inside Dylan's backpack, he removed the container where his son was and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the baby safely smiling at him.

“Where are we going, Dylan?” he asked, turning his face towards the boy who was driving the car.

“To my house.” he replied without much interest, paying attention to the road. “I know someone who can fix your injury and who wouldn't tell anyone about it either.” smiled when he said that. “Despite my intelligent, I am not yet trained to deal with health aspects. Or have the confidence to do something I don't know.”

“You looked very capable when you shot the grenades at those guards.” he commented in an amused tone of voice.

“I play games a lot. Mostly shooting games.” Dylan countered without hiding his smile.

“Is not the same thing.” said Cliff in a more serious tone, not wanting to think about what might have happened to the boy if things haven't worked out.

“No, it's not.” agreed with the argument also using a more serious tone.

“You could have been hurt. Or worse.” he scolded, still not understanding why the boy had risked so much to help him. “Why?” for a long time there was no answer to his question and he began to think that the boy would ignore him.

“I didn't want to have any more regrets.” was the answer he gave, and then Dylan was silent for the rest of the way to his house.

When they arrived at the small two-story house, Dylan helped Cliff in and then sat him on the sofa in the living room together with his son. The house was very tidy with few utensils giving the impression that it was not used much. There were more electronic devices than everyday items. There were no photographs anywhere.

“I just called him. He should be here in twenty minutes or less.” informed Dylan as he returned to the living room and approached Cliff. “Do you want to take that clothes off? I'll get you a change of clothes.” and before the man could say anything, the boy moved upstairs where he probably went after clothes.

“And how are you doing, BB?” asked Cliff as he kindly placed his son on the table facing the sofa. “Today was a very busy day, wasn't it?” he said in a gentle and calm tone making the baby look at him with a smile. 

In response the baby was a series of babbling and arm movements, seeming to try to describe the events he saw with enthusiasm. 

“You had fun, didn't you?” 

The baby put his hand on the glass and looked at his father with concern. 

“Don´t worry. Daddy is fine.” he said placing his hand over the container and fixing his eyes on his son. “It's all ok. I'm not going anywhere.” he said smiling. “See the sunset.” he started to sing. “The day is ending. Let that yawn out.” the lullaby was the same as the song he whistles. “There's no pretending.”

Dylan started down the stairs, but when he heard the lullaby he stopped.

“I will hold you. And protect you. So let love warm you. Till the morning.” he continued to sing until his son falls asleep.

He couldn't tell how long he stood there at the top of the stairs and when the tears started to fall down his face, but he soon recovered and continued down the steps with a change of clothes in his hands.

“They may be a little tight on you, but I think they should do for now.” he said in a low voice, not wanting to wake the baby. “Let me help you get this out.” already suggested knowing that with the bruise on his shoulder, Cliff would not be able to remove that outfit alone.

Just like in Dylan's workroom, the two of them together removed the armor that was over the now dry suit that Cliff had been wearing since the beginning. Dylan took the entire set of guard clothes and hid them in a closet nearby.

“Thanks for the clothes, Dylan.” Cliff thanked him and lean his back on the couch. “I think it might be better to change clothes after your friend takes care of my injury.”

“Ah, you're right! It is better to do that later.” agreed sitting down on the only chair in the room.

“Now is later.” Cliff's words stopped Dylan from rubbing his hands over his face and looking at him.

The two face each other knowing exactly what Cliff was talking about. The unfinished conversation they had inside Dylan's work room.

“Indeed.” put his hands on his legs taking a deep breath. “Ask anything.”

“You said you didn't want to have any more regrets.” said Cliff, remembering the boy's words perfectly. “What do you mean by that?”

“If you and the little one had died there, I would regret not having helped for the rest of my life.” he responded without blinking or wavering. “And believe in me when I say that I already have enough regrets for this life.”

“You were prepared. It was not a last minute decision.” commented Cliff already realizing this when he noticed all the preparation that Dylan had to make his plan work.

“Yes.” Dylan confirmed the other's deductions even though there was no need.

“Since when?”

“Honestly? Since I found out they were going to use your son as a tool to help bring America together.” he pointed to the watch on Cliff's wrist. “Coincidentally it was at the same time that I was repairing your watch.”

“So, that's why you didn't return it personally.” he said looking surprised.

“Why did you think I did that?” Dylan questioned genuinely curious.

“I don´t know. I thought maybe you are mad at me.” shrugged. “Although I didn't remember having punched any other electronic device in front of you.” on hearing Cliff's joke, Dylan laughed. “Why didn't you tell me? About your plan.”

“I believed that John's plan would work.” he told the truth feeling angry at himself. “I really thought that plan would work. That he would help you and in the end I wouldn't have to do anything.” he ground his teeth in frustration. “I really believed in that jerk until I saw that the doors leading to the elevator wouldn't open.”

“Are you saying it was his fault?” Cliff asked, surprised and incredulous.

“Well, I know that to do that it would have to be someone with high-level access. And the president didn't seem at all aware of John's plan. So…” he chose not to finish the sentence knowing how difficult it would be for that man to accept that his friend had betrayed him.

“No. John wouldn't do that. He was helping me.” stated with certain intensity that he was right. “Does not make sense. Why would he do that?”

“Look, I have no idea about the friendship between the two of you and I honestly don't want to know, but you also don't know about the things that have happened since the last time you met him.” Dylan could list a list of times he noticed John's irritating personality, but he didn't see how it would help in that conversation. “He loves her, you know? Bridget.” he wanted to laugh at the disgusted expression that appeared on Cliff's face. “No. It is not like that. He really believes that she will bring people together. Unite America. Save the world. Stuff like that.”

“What are you trying to tell me, Dylan?” he asked for a better clarification.

“It's simple. If she asked him to shoot you, he would shoot.” explained without taking his eyes off Cliff. “Could he hesitate? He could. Would he ask you to hand over your child? No doubt. But save you? Against her orders? I don't believe he would do that.”

“You don't know him.” Cliff's simple establishment made Dylan feel hurt in a way he didn't think was possible.

“Definitely not as much as you, but enough to know his priorities. And that woman.” Dylan got up and went to the window wishing the person he expected would arrive soon. “You did not see. The way she looked at your son. The same fucking way as John.” he took a deep breath trying to control his anger. “Well, that was before he found out that he was your son.”

“Do you have proof?” the question caused Dylan to punch the wall.

“No, Cliff. I don't have any fucking proof to prove what I am saying. Because I was too busy trying to save your life!” Dylan exclaimed, unable to contain himself. “Don´t worry. Next time I’ll remember about collecting evidence.”

“I'm just saying that we can't judge the actions of others without being sure…”

“If you don't want to believe me just say it!” he exclaimed, interrupting Cliff's speech without caring about being rude. “It's not like I'm going to make you do or believe in anything.” he crossed his arms and looked in any direction other than the man sitting on his couch. “God! I need a drink.”

“I would not recommend that.” the new male voice made the two men turn their heads in the direction of a man standing at the entrance to the room.

“You are no longer my doctor to say that.” was the rude answer Dylan gave the man. “And you are late.” he mumbled, heading towards the kitchen to get a bottle from the fridge. “And I want you to return the key to my door when you leave.”

The man sighed, looking used to the younger man's personality.

“How do you do?” he held out his hand to Cliff politely. “I am Heitor.”

_______________________________

While Heitor took care of Cliff's injuries, Dylan talked and played with the baby in the kitchen. They could hear everything he said to the baby and Cliff could not contain his laughter now and then. He was again surprised at how easy it was to laugh whenever he was in that boy's company.

“I apologize for Dylan's behavior.” the doctor's words made Cliff to turn his attention to him. “He was always a complicated boy. Even when he was younger. It is amazing how he has changed almost nothing.” he commented with a sad smile on his mouth.

“Are you one of his brothers?” asked Cliff, not sure what to say.

“No. Unfortunately not.” he replied in an even sadder voice. “I am his brother-in-law. I was married to his older sister. Amber.” for a long time he remained silent and Cliff did not try to ask any more questions. “She and Ryan, his other brother, died in the Manhattan incident.” he finished sewing one side of the wound. “Dylan is one of the few who survived that.”

“He was there?” he asked, alarmed by the new information.

“Yes. And he barely survived. The surgeries left his body full of scars.” the doctor started to sew the other side of the wound. “Deep down, I think a part of him died that day. Along with his brothers.” he sighed looking tired. “That is why I’m always worried about him. I'm afraid he'll make drastic decisions again.”

The doctor's words reminded Cliff that something the president had said to Dylan before they left. At that time he thought it was a little strange, but didn't pay much attention. Now that things were calmer, everything seemed clearer and more coherent.

“Again?” he asked in a low voice. “Dylan try to kill himself?”

“So he really didn't tell you.” the doctor didn't seem surprised. “Of course he wouldn't tell. His stubbornness is second only to his rudeness towards others.”

“Why are you telling me all this?” Cliff's question stopped the doctor from stitching.

“When he called me, he said I needed to help a friend of his.” was the answer the man gave, seeming to think that it answered the question asked before. Noticing Cliff's confused look, he continued. “Dylan don't have friends. Not really.” turned his attention to the wound. “And when I saw you two arguing in the living room… it looked a lot like the time when he fought with his brothers.” for the first time the doctor smiled happily. “That's why I'm telling you all of this, Cliff. Because that boy won't tell you anything, especially if he sees you as a friend.”

As soon as the stitches were made and the bandages were on, Cliff thanked the doctor and got up walking to the kitchen. He noticed that Dylan was still talking animatedly with his son and didn't even notice his presence at the door. Changing his mind, Cliff walked away, picked up the clean clothes and went to the bathroom to change.

“So, guess what Amber said?” Dylan was telling one of his stories to his brothers. “I don't break anybody's heart, they have only one. I break their bones, they have 206.”

“I didn't know you got along so well with children.” Heitor's comment made Dylan's smile disappear when he looked at the man. “Although Amber always said that you would be a great uncle.”

“If your children should be more like her than you, we would certainly get along well.” commented coldly. “And? How was it?” he asked rudely, but with concern.

“It's like you said. The bullet came out without causing much damage. So I didn't have to do much.” he took the suitcase he brought and placed it on the kitchen table. “I recommend that to keep the wound clean and change the bandages at least once a day, but for the other wounds on his body… I suppose he already knows what to do.” stared at Dylan. “He's a military man, right?”

“How do you know?” he asked in surprise.

“The dog tag on his neck.” replied not understanding the other's surprise. “Well, since you don't need my services anymore, I'm going. I'll be back next week.” he reported picking up his suitcase.

“Wait!” Dylan exclaimed, already holding Heitor's arm. “Stay a little more. There is something I would like to know your opinion.” he released his arm. “It's about the baby.”

“What is about the baby?” Cliff's serious voice startled them both.

Dylan handed the little one into Cliff's hands and together they went to talk in the living room by the window while Heitor waited for them in the kitchen. The two started talking, putting aside the last conversation they had, and as soon as Cliff understood Dylan's suggestion, he started to feel that same fear he felt when he thought he wouldn't be able to protect his son.

“I will not lie to you and say that there is no risk in doing so, but I know that you do not intend to continue to leave your son trapped in this container.” Dylan kept saying looking down at the little one. “If something goes wrong, Heitor will do his best to help your son.” in saying these words, Dylan hoped to be able to reassure the man at least a little.

Cliff remained silent, keeping his gaze fixed on his son, who was swimming through the liquid in the container, uninterested in their conversation. Many things went through his mind. He remembered the weight of the gun in his hand and then the sound of the two shots. The promise he had made to his wife. After everything that had happened, Cliff really couldn't imagine a world without his son. His bridge to the future.

“Give me a minute.” was all he managed to say when he looked up at Dylan.

The blue-eyed boy returned Cliff´s look by smiling slightly and nodded his head. The older man put his hand on Dylan's shoulder and then went to the bathroom with his son in his arms. It wasn't long before Heitor joined Dylan near the window where he stayed.

“How long do you intend to blame yourself for what happened?” the doctor questioned feeling tired to see that young man torturing himself. “She wouldn't want that. Neither of them would.”

“I really don't want to have this conversation right now, Heitor.” Dylan stated already moving away from the window to stay away from the doctor.

“Then, when?” he insisted, not wanting to let the young man get away from it, as well as everything else. “It's been almost two years and you still refuse to talk about it.” the two were silent. “You are not the only one who lost someone that day.”

“Don´t!” he said almost in a threatening tone. “Just… don´t.” he took a deep breath and crossed his arms looking towards the bathroom door. “I don't expect or do I want you to understand my feelings, Heitor. Or anyone else.”

“Even Cliff?” hearing the name, Dylan couldn't help but look at the doctor with a surprised look. “You are not as hard to read as you think, Dylan.”

The two did not have the opportunity to continue the conversation because the young man was called and without thinking twice, Dylan ran to the bathroom and opened the door. Cliff was sitting on the floor smiling and with tears streaming down his face as he carried a small baby in his arm.

The doctor did all possible tests to ensure the baby's health and as soon as he concluded that everything was right, he returned the baby to the father. After receiving the thanks of the two, Heitor said goodbye and left.

“When I found out I was gonna be a father… I was so scared.” began to say Cliff to his son, comfortably seated on his arm. “Scared of what it would mean.” he passed his hand gently over the baby's small head. “I had to be there for you and your mom. No matter what.” the baby stretched out his small hands towards the dog tags and Cliff took it off his neck and gave it to him to play with. “I couldn't just go off and get myself killed anymore… couldn't leave you all alone. I couldn't.” the baby laughed happily swinging the dog tags. “But I had it all wrong. Being a father didn't make me scared. It made me brave.” Cliff smiled and bent down to kiss his son's forehead. “I am sorry it took me so long to understand.” he closed his eyes, relieved to feel the baby's heat against his skin. “And thank you... for being alive, Sam.”

_______________________________

The next morning, Dylan woke up early and settled in his office to play any game that came up knowing full well that he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. It had been a long time since he had woken up from a nightmare. He even wanted to go to the room in which Cliff slept with his son, but scolded himself and move away from the room.

He pressed the buttons on the remote control like a nut trying to kill the opponent who insisted on hitting him until he saw he was getting a call. Dylan paused the game and answered the call, not surprised to face the photo of his boss's face.

“Good morning, Madam President.” he greeted her with a polite smile, trying not to show the discomfort he felt for being interrupted from the game.

“I see you're already awake as usual.” she commented in an emotionless tone. “I just want to let you know that you can come back to work after lunch.”

Dylan thought they would take longer to work things out there, but he saw that was wrong.

“I'm glad to hear that.” he said, taking the blue headphone off his neck and holding it with both hands on his legs. “I hope the damage is not serious.”

“Probably more than I would like to admit.” the tone of her voice made it clear to note her frustration and discontent. “It seems that in addition to the malfunction of the machines we also had a security breach.”

“A security breach? Are you sure?” he tried to sound as surprised as possible.

“John and the security guards who were on that floor gave me a brief report of what happened.” she reported looking even more angry. “We'll talk better when you get here. Try to sleep some more, Dylan. I need you at your best.” and after saying that, hung up.

Taking a deep breath he continued to stare and hold the headphone.

“You will go back to work there.” Cliff's voice behind him made Dylan turn the chair around to face him standing at the door. The man looked... surprised and disappointed.

“Good morning to you too, Cliff.” countered Dylan, placing the headphone on the table. “Where is the little one?”

“Sleeping in the basket in the bedroom.” he replied automatically, not seeming to want to change the subject as Dylan intended. “After everything... are you really going to go back there?” from the way he spoke it seemed that he wanted the other to deny it.

“Why shouldn't I?” was his answer in a neutral tone. “If any it would be suspicious that I stopped working there at the very moment you ran away with your son, don't you think?”

“They may find that you helped me. If they haven't already found out.” Cliff suggested, unable to deny what Dylan had just said. “And when they find out... what do you think they're going to do with you?”

“I don't think I left any evidence that incriminates me, but if so and they found out… Bridget was more likely to send John and her guards to invade my home instead of calling me to work.” replied in a playful tone. “And about what they are going to do with me… if that really worried me I wouldn't even have thought of helping you in the first place.”

“You really are unbelievable.” Cliff said running a hand over his face as he entered the office approaching the other. “Have no sense of self-preservation and acts as if none of this would affect your life.” the man rested his hand on the top of the back of the chair where the boy was sitting. “What do you really think will happen, Dylan?”

“Bridget is not going to stop looking for you and your son. Because that is the type of woman she is. And you will have no choice but to run away with your child as far away from her as possible.” Dylan went on to say trying to get the emotions out of his voice, but not having much success even more that Cliff was so close to him. “And I will continue to work there trying to pretend I never met you at all. Life will go on... as it always does.” he looked away to fix it in any other direction. “That´s... what I know will happen, Cliff. And you?”

“Why did you try to kill yourself, Dylan?” 

The boy could not hide his astonishment when he heard these words. He laughed nervously, not knowing what to do other than that.

“That stupid doctor.” he said to himself, getting up from his chair and walking away from the man. “And he didn't give me back the keys.”

“Is this what this job means to you?” Cliff continued to insist even though he knew he might have no right to say any of that. At the same time, he was angry at see how Dylan didn't value his own life. “A reason not to make stupid…”

“YES!” he admitted, finally turning to face the other. “I don't work for Bridget because I believe in her as the fuck idiot John and I also don't even agree with her way of thinking!” took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair with a tired and sad expression. “I know. I know she uses me. I know very well that she manipulated me when she said all those beautiful words to convince me to work for her.” he laughed without happiness as crossed his arms around himself. “But I needed it. Desperately. And she knew that.” his blue eyes stayed in the other's brown. “And I still need it.”

“Why?” he asked without taking his eyes off the boy.

“Because I lost all my will to live since I survived that incident that killed my brothers.” tears started to fall down his face and he honestly didn't mind crying in front of Cliff. “They weren't supposed to be there. We were supposed to celebrate my birthday at Amber's house, but…” he stopped to breathe and press his arms against himself harder. “As usual, I was a huge asshole and was too busy working to remember what day it was and so they were forced to go to my job to probably drag me out.” he closed his eyes and let the tears continue to drain. “I said... some nonsense when we talk on the phone.” took a deep breath and shrugged. “And those were the last words we exchanged. Incredibly stupid bullshit.”

For a long time the two remained silent.

“I really admire you, Cliff. For being so determined and strong. Even when everything seems like nothing more than a sequence of fuck up events.” Dylan ran a hand over his face, wiping away tears quickly. “Maybe that's why I like you. For being so different from me.”

As Dylan was concerned with wiping away all the tears on his face, he didn't notice Cliff's approach until the moment the man was practically facing him. Without warning, Cliff gently put his hand on his shoulder and brought him close to him until they were both together in a hug. Dylan blinked several times in surprise without knowing where to put his hands. 

Cliff said nothing, just continued to hug him, closing his eyes and placing a hand on the boy's soft hair. As the seconds passed, Dylan gradually stopped feeling awkward in that hug and responded by placing his hands on Cliff's back. The boy got to hold tightly the shirt that Cliff was wearing and also pressed his face on the man's shoulder.

He didn't know how much he needed it until he had Cliff's arms around him.

Now he really didn't know how he would go on to live without that man's company. Thinking about the possibility of never seeing him anymore made Dylan's heart ache. If that was what it meant to be in love... he would rather have continued to never known.

“Come with us.” Cliff's words came so unexpectedly that Dylan didn't understand them.

“What did you say?” he asked, confused, pulling away enough to face each other.

“I said... come with us.” the man said calmly and with a calm expression as he put his hand over the other's face. “Run away with Sam and me.”

Dylan was staring at him in confusion, not knowing how to feel about Cliff's words or the fact that the man had his hand over his face in such a gentle way that it was cruel.

“What?” was all he managed to say in an idiotic and silly way.

“Come on now, Dylan. We both know very well that you are not stupid to not understand what I just said.” he said with a cheerful laugh.

“No… that wasn't what I…” he tried to say by slowly getting his head back to working properly. “I obviously understood what you said.” he replied in an offended tone, moving further away from Cliff as he pushed him forward. “I just... I don't understand why you said that.”

The two continued to face each other, waiting for the other to say something and neither of them said anything, so they remained silent.

“Do you have any idea what you're asking from me?” Dylan tried to bring common sense to the other, but Cliff continued to stare at him without understand. “We hardly know each other.”

“That didn't seem to stop you from helping Sam and me.”

“That was different!” he exclaimed, not believing what he was hearing. “Lives were at stake!”

“Lives are at stake now.” Cliff countered, not seeming to care about the boy's answers.

“Oh my God! What lives?!” he exclaimed, losing patience with that man.

“Your life.”

Dylan's surprise was such that he forgot all his frustration now and just stared at Cliff, still not believing what he had just heard.

“Stop. Just stop.” Dylan asked not to take any more of the mood swings that Cliff was causing him. “You cannot just say these things to me. You can't.” he leaned against the wall for fear that he might fall to the floor. “You don´t know me. You don't know the things I did.” unconsciously he looked at the watch on Cliff's wrist. “And you'll probably be mad at me when you find out.”

Cliff took a deep breath thinking how that boy with such sad blue eyes managed to say those words seeming to hurt himself more and more. He waited a moment for Dylan to calm down so he could say something.

“Whatever you think you did, or whatever you think I will be mad about... none of this will be more important to me than your life.” he spoke, taking care that Dylan understood how honest he was being. “And this is a truth that even you will not be able to change.”

Feeling as if all the weight that kept him on his feet disappear, Dylan slid to the floor and sat there trying to remember how to breathe. He started laughing and crying at the same time. He knew Cliff wasn't lying, but he still couldn't believe it. He didn't want to believe it.

“Why would you care about a life like mine? Even when I can't even like myself.” he asked with his hands over his face. “Because I help you and Sam?”

“I liked you even before that.” hearing that Dylan laughed knowing full well that Cliff's "liking" was different from his.

And he was surprised to find that he would accept anything that Cliff was willing to give him. Even if he will never have the same feeling that Dylan had. Being able to be in the company of that incredible man was already a reward for all the good things he did in life (which were not many). Helping Cliff and Sam would be a great reason to continue to live. Almost too good to be true.

“I'm tired.” he admitted feeling really tired after crying and screaming so much in such a short time. “Can I ask for a favor?” he asked in a persuasive tone of voice.

“What is it? Cliff asked approaching and sitting next to the boy.

“That lullaby. That you always sing for Sam.” swallowed feeling a little nervous. “Could you... could you sing for me?” he knew his face must be slightly red, but he chose to ignore it and wait for the answer.

The answer never came. Because after taking a deep breath, Cliff started singing the lullaby as if it were the most natural thing to do. Dylan smiled and closed his eyes. And before he knew it he was already asleep and ended up dropping his head on the other's shoulder. Cliff smiled and continued to sing even though he knew Dylan was already sound asleep.


End file.
